


Requited

by Cobalt_Sniper



Series: For Ari [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5452541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cobalt_Sniper/pseuds/Cobalt_Sniper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluffy Pale DirkKat for my friend's Birthday.</p><p>Hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requited

It’s always irked you that humans can sleep without sopor, for the simple reason that it removes the need for piles. Obviously, why would a race that sleeps on a soft surface covered in snuggle-planes need a pile of assorted objects to rest in when they don’t want to get dirty?

Thankfully, your moirail is a make-do kind of person. He’s covered his horizontal sleeping plane with every blanket and pillow he owns – as well as a few that he’s borrowed from your collective friend group – and is currently holding you against his chest while you idly trace his scarred hands.

He’s good company, once the two of you stopped arguing over who had a worse life and decided that both of your grubhoods leave a lot to be desired. He’s decidedly more tolerable than his dancestor, and infinitely more logical. He’s amazing with his hands, both with his robots and with your horns, as much as it embarrasses you to say. Honestly, he could probably be the worst moirail in existence and you’d still be putty in his hands, but even Kanaya agrees that he’s insanely well-versed in the ways of pale romance, at least for a human.

He wraps his thumb and forefinger around the base of your horn, pressing lightly against the gentle flare where it meets your skin. His other hand is looped around your stomach, and is currently being worshipped like a god by your claw-tips.

“Hey.”

His voice is soft and slightly slurred, and it makes you insanely happy to know that you caused that, you’re the reason he feels so tired and comfortable.

It takes him saying it again, and asking if you can talk, for you to turn around, framing his hips in the diamond of your bent knees as you shift in his lap.

“Of course we can talk. What do you think I’m here for?”

He nods, his eyes skirting around you. They settle on a spot a bit above your left shoulder, so you tilt your head to the right and wait for him to start explaining what has him so distracted.

“Jake talked to me yesterday.”

Oh. Jake.

You wonder what he’s done this time to enrapture Dirk. Perhaps he looked in his general direction! Maybe he even deigned to hold a conversation with him!

“He asked me on a date.”

Well. That, too.

“What did you tell him?” you ask, resting your elbows on your knees.

“I told him I’d love to, so we watched a movie in his screening room. It was nice.”

You gesture for him to go on, because a ‘nice’ date, even with the absolute flush of your life, isn’t in itself anything major.

“He, ah… he told me something pretty controversial.”

You rest a hand just below his wrist, running your thumb up and down one of his deceptively blue veins. “Go on?”

“He told me he didn't want to use the quadrant system, and if I wanted to date him, I’d have to do it the human way.”

That back-stabbing, nook-licking _grub-fucker! What right does he have to shit all the fuck over your first functional romance? What possessed him to even_ _ **think**_ _about it?_

You resolve to calmly resolve your impending break-up, and then swiftly begin plotting your much-deserved revenge on that home-wrecking piece of -

“So I told him to shove his traditional ideals up his chute.”

What the fuck.

“ _What the fuck._ ”

“You heard me. I told him I would be perfectly happy for him to occupy my one empty flushed quadrant, but the idea that I would give up my stable, much-needed moiraillegiance was impossible and selfish.”

Your jaw is probably somewhere on the ground right now, and an entire brood of grubs could most likely make a hive in your gaping mouth.

Sure, you knew he was happy about this pale endeavour, but for him to actively deny the advances of his flush-crush in favour of you?

It makes you feel warm.

You lean forward into Dirk's chest, staring at him with wide eyes. He stares back, slightly amused.

“Is there a problem?”

“You chose me over him”

It comes out more accusatory than you mean it to, and you bite down on the inside of your cheek.

“Obviously. I need you more than I need the wonder-boy.” His hand leaves your horn as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, holding you softly against his chest.

Your breath hitches as a rumble slips between your lips, shaking you softly. He chuckles, and if it was anyone else you'd probably slap him about now, but he’s digging fingers between your spinal protrusions and humming his own contentment, so you let it slip for the time being.

He pulls you back as he lays down, so that you’re fitted against his side with your head on his chest, and he wraps one arm around your shoulder as the other one goes back to your horn. You’re embarrassed beyond all belief as you butt your head against his hand, smiling widely at the grounding physical contact.

You’re not one to take without giving, so you reach your right arm around to the side you’re not currently attached to like a leech and start gently rubbing at his ribs. He sighs, and you know he’d be rumbling and chirring if he were a troll, but as it is he just makes more little noises and kisses the top of your head.

You’re close to falling asleep, tired out by your earlier sudden shift in emotion and the tireless efforts Dirk is making to reduce you to a blissed-out pile of jelly, and when he nudges your shoulder with the arm he has around you, you know your groggy stare betrays this.

Dirk smiles down at you. It’s barely there compared to yours, but you know he has problems with physical cues, and count yourself victorious for making him smile at all. “Do you still want to do the lesson tomorrow?”

“Of fucking course I do. What, are you doubting your teaching capabilities?”

“More like doubting your patience for delicate machinery. I won’t hold it against you if you decide robotics isn’t your thing.”

“Just because it isn’t my _thing_ doesn’t mean I can’t understand how the hell it works.” You huff, burying your face in his shirt.

“Whatever you say, Karkat.” His chest jumps slightly with a single, silent laugh, and you press the flat of your hand against his side in some hybrid of a pap and a punch.

“Go to sleep, fuck-nuts.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Dirk reaches over to hit the remote control for the lights, and the room is blissfully dark and quiet. You burrow into Dirk’s cool skin and soft clothes, rumbling like a broken engine as he idly plays with your horns.

The edges of your vision are just darkening when he says it.

“Pity you.”

You smile like a sap, stretching up to kiss the side of Dirk’s jaw.

“Pity you too.”

The room is quiet after that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all like it, especially you, Ari!


End file.
